Miscalculation
by RaspberryDevil
Summary: "Hey, Endou? What would you do if you're not the cause of it? If other teams are starting to lose it and your love for the sport can't help them? Where's your optimism then?" / It's time for the next FFI. The preliminaries are over and on Liocott, the matches are starting to get serious. But it would be too easy if things went according to plan, wouldn't it?
1. Prologue

A/N: Ah, I finally did it. This story idea is at least around two years old, yet I never wrote more than this prologue. I never had much motivation to finish it but then I dreamt that I continued and thought – why not give it a try? I write too much romance lately anyway, need some difference for a change. Yet I probably won't write/update regularly for it, it's an... uh... experiment?

Have fun?

* * *

"Mark? Are you all right?" "Ah, yes." For a short moment, not even a blink of an eye, the captain of Unicorn appeared hesitant, almost absent for the lack of better observation. Dylan was aware that Mark had been preoccupied the whole day or rather since they were on Liocott Island. His eyes always wandered around, his hands were never still and all in all he looked like a mess. A paranoid mess, to be precisely. "Sure 'bout that?" Dylan looked at his friend and Captain, concern hiding behind his glasses. It was rare to see him like that – or was he just nervous? Scared to lose an important match and to fail as a Captain? Dylan knew that Mark thought it was his fault that they lost last time, that he did the wrong thing and felt terrible for not realising Kazuya's sickness sooner. But it wasn't. He had assured him that many times now. Maybe not often enough. Or did his words not count at all? "I'm really fine, Dylan." He didn't believe him but was also aware that it was no use to get a confession from him right now. He could be surprisingly stubborn at times. Mark, on the other hand, was thankful that his friend cared about him, that he wanted to help him when he saw that Mark wasn't feeling well. But he couldn't tell him. Not now. It would be too much of a burden for his friend so he rather carried it all by himself. Just a little while longer.

"Fideo?" The young Captain flinched when Marco approached him from behind. "Are you okay? You were staring absently." Fideo laughed lightly, covering his embarrassment, before he smiled at his teammate. "Ah, I'm fine." "Well, if you say so." Marco furrowed his brow, not believing his captain a single word. It was suspicious how the brunet acted ever since they were on this island. It was just the third day but his behaviour was far worse than on the first one. They – not just Marco, also the other one felt his odd behaviour – caught him starring out of the window while breakfast, realised his desperate tries to be mentally present during practise and saw as well as felt his misleading comments on the field. But even so Fideo was capable to be stubborn at times when it was uncalled for and they knew that the wouldn't tell them anything at this moment. The case with Kageyama last time proved as much. And not even Hide was able to reach him then.

"Rococo!" Well, this was bad. Goushu thought that his Captain would turn around and catch the ball when he heard his name, though instead he was hit by it at the back of his head and fell on his knees. "Idiot, what were you thinking?", Windy asked the striker when he knelt worriedly next to their goalkeeper on the ground. "I just wanted to drag him out of his daydreaming", he murmured guiltily before he went to get an ice pack. "You okay?" Windy lay a hand on his Captain's shoulder, waiting for the right moment to pull him up. The goalkeeper needed a second before he registered his question and finally nodded. "It's fine", he said eventually when the concern of the other one grew, asking Windy to help him up. Under his watchful eyes, he scanned his legs, trying to tap of the dirt. Windy looked at the scrapped knee, wondering why the other one didn't even flinch when his hands touched the small wound. "Come, sit down, I'll clean it." "It's nothing. We receive much more damage during training." "Rococo!" Now he did flinch, surprised by his friend's harsh tone. "I'm not asking question, neither of us is. If you don't feel like telling us what's wrong with you, we'll accept that. But don't act like nothing is wrong." Rococo's eyes widened, hit by the truth of these words. "I... thank you. I'm sorry", he mumbled, lowering his head. And Windy had no idea what to say, so he lead him to the bench and started to take care of his wounds.

"Something wrong, Edgar?" The Captain of England's national team turned around when he heard Philip's voice. "You've realised it too, didn't you? The odd behaviour of the other Captains?" The blond seemed to ponder but eventually, he nodded. "Is it that bad already?", he asked, unsure what to think of it as it was nothing he was used to. "I'm not quite sure yet. Do me a favour and keep an eye on them." The concern of his Captain surprised the young boy at first, was it a side he didn't see often from his friend – not that the was cold-hearted, he just thought more about his own people than the ones of other teams first. So his nod was rather hesitant, though enough to show his understanding. "Yes."

"Teres?" The goalkeeper of The Empire turned with slight irritation to his Captain who allowed more balls than usual to pass him – not that he'd complain, as long as he, the goalkeeper, stopped them. "I have the feeling that this years FFI will have similar problems than the last one", Teres said eventually, facing his teammate who expected every answer despite this one. It confused him, all irritation he possessed slide aside. "What are you talking about?" "I'm not quite sure yet, but do me a favour and be careful, Ortega." "Why?" Was there a reason to worry this much? "Because other teams are already affected."

"Roniejo? Did you call me for a reason?" Lagarto sought his Captain out as soon as one player had told him that he was waiting for him. He didn't knew why Roniejo didn't come to him directly, but this question was irrelevant as he was standing by his side. "The time has come", the striker said, turning towards the defender who was surprised by his sudden determinate expression. "Which one?" "To pay back our debt. The others are in trouble, I can feel it." He seemed to understand, or was at least starting to makes sense of his words. And there was only one question now which needed to be asked. "Will you help them just like Inazuma Japan helped us?"

"You can bet on it."


	2. Opening Ceremony

A/N: It's a short chapter, I'm sorry. Anyway, in regards to a guest's suggestion: Sorry guys, no Oc submission! There are a lot of canon characters to choose from, they won't be necessary ;3

Have fun! :3

* * *

"Welcome to this year's Football Frontier International. There are a lot of questions to be asked. What kind of great matches will we see? Can Inazuma Japan defend its title? My name is Maxter Land. And to my right sits Levin Murdoch who will act as a commentator this year again. Glad to have you here."

"Glad to be here. It's always a pleasure."

"Let's focus on the most important people – our participants."

"A lot of talented people will show us their skills again. The preliminaries granted just the strongest a ticket to these rounds."

"And here they are. The first one to enter is Argentina's team and their Captain Teres Tolue. Look at them and the strength they show."

"Let's hope that it is more than just a show. And here are our all time favourites, The Kingdom. These dancers have shown great matches until now with their unique style."

"Followed by Cotarl. From the black horse to favourites, we can't wait to see what they'll do this year. Will they be our champions?"

"Don't forget our gentlemen from England, Queen's Knight. What will they surprise us with this time?"

"Also someone who could surprise us is Rose Griffon whose matches were always splendid."

"And Germany. Will they claim the title of the best?"

"But maybe it's Italy with its Captain Fideo. Last year, the chance for the final was taken by them but there is always a second one. Hidetoshi assist as a player from the beginning this time, this'll be interesting."

"And there are the reigning champions, Inazuma Japan. Can someone claim their throne?"

"Maybe our next team from Spain. The final was within reach last year, let's hope the best for them."

"And the last one to enter is Unicorn. Again, they are supported by more than one great player."

"I feel nostalgic. There were just few changes made in the teams if I'm not mistaken."

"Ah yes, we have a similar start-up than last year. Just a few players didn't make it and were exceeded by other talents."

"Or are too old. But this means that we see them bloom at other tournaments."

The introduction of the teams was underlined by the crowd's cheers, still echoing trough the stadium as the commentators' voice stopped. The teams were lined up, the Captain of each carrying a flag while a projection of their emblem was hovering above their heads. It was as spectacular as ever. The players who already experienced this feeling were as taken aback as the last time, still overwhelmed by this amount of people who were here because they wanted to see their matches. Who came all the way to see them. It filled them with pride. Yet there was a feeling which didn't belong to such a joyous event. Teres looked to his left, his glance passing Roniejo and resting on Rococo. His whole body language was tense, far from anticipation the games, his glance directed stubbornly towards the front. It was rather strange. He reluctantly turned away again when Díaz, a brown haired sturdy defender, tapped his shoulder, signalising him to focus on the things happening in front of him – their fans who applauded them. Every time it was somehow special to see this view and Teres couldn't deny that it left him with a feeling of satisfaction. They made it here again, stood on the same field as other great international players. Finally they would see how far their training brought them and how far the others got. It was time. These rounds were going to be different than the preliminaries. After this opening ceremony, they had barely a day left to train and prepare for their first match. And there was also an issue which bothered him since he came to this island; the odd behaviour of some other Captains – Rococo was one of them. But tomorrow was their first match.

Then he would see with his own eyes what was happening.

* * *

"What a wonderful morning. Yesterday's opening ceremony had been as fantastic as always. And the first match to open this year's FFI will begin in a few minutes", Murdoch started with enthusiasm, more than eager to see this year's talents. Last year showed him how much he loved this sport after all and seeing the young generation sharing the same feelings was refreshing, reminded him of the times when he used to play with his comrades. "What can you say about today's teams?" Maxter was less enthusiastic nevertheless looking forward to this first match which would give them a taste of the future matches. "Well, Argentina did a really good job at keeping their reputation as an iron wall. But the same goes for Cotarl." "Right. Rococo showed his qualities as a goalkeeper and that he won't go down against his opponents." Murdoch nodded though felt compelled to add his own thoughts. "But Argentina's offensive is also quite strong. We'll see."

While the men shared their thoughts, the players were warming up, getting used to the grass under their feet. It wasn't time to stand in line yet, nevertheless Teres walked towards Rococo who was discussing something with Goushu though stopped when he saw him approaching them. "Let this be a good game." Outstretching his hand, Teres wished Rococo good luck, however he just received a blank stare before Rococo turned wordlessly around and stepped on the field, position himself in the goal. Goushu, so that it doesn't attract attention, took his hand instead and shook it. "Yes, I hope so. And do us a favour..." Leaning forward, the ace striker whispered the last words in his ear before he let go of his hand and followed Rococo, leaving a dumbstruck Teres behind. "Captain?" Diego, a small forward with black hair which was styled into an afro, looked up to his Captain, confusion visible despite his closed eyes. Teres ignored his concern, turning around to warm up with the other guys. "Let's do our best."

"What did you tell him?" Windy threw a suspicious glance at Goushu but the forward just shrugged. "Nothing." Windy saw trough the lie though knew better than to say something. Instead his glance shifted to Rococo who was holding Drago's shoots as if it was mere child's play. The defender thought back to the conversation he had with their coach, his concern because Rococo's sudden change of behaviour. Daisuke didn't care, or at least thought that it was something which would pass on its own. Windy wasn't so sure of that. He wanted to win, just like his Captain but he had the feeling that something else was driving him, a motivation he couldn't grasp. And that was the reason why he – just for a moment in a state of utter confusion – hoped to lose, considered it to be the best solution for whatever needed to be solved. And then the whistle sounded, announcing the start. Lining up, the teams bowed down, followed by a simultaneous "Let this be a good match". The handshakes which followed after that were forced, but nobody of his team but Teres realised it. They were far too nervous.

"The kick-off begins with Cotarl. But Argentina doesn't just stand around."

Both sides fought fiercely even though it looked like Cotarl wasn't using its full strength. Yet The Empire had a hard time defending against them – not that they let any ball trough during the first half-time. The defenders Julio, a big young man with an orange afro like hairstyle and Martines, a slim and tall player with black hair, did their best to prevent them from coming near the goal. "Their defence is as tough as usual", one could hear Maxter say. "Wish I could say the same about Cotarl", Edgar, who was seated among the crowd with his teammates, mumbled. "What are you talking about?" Philip dragged his glance from the game to lock at his Captain, just to face the game again when Edgar gestured him to. "Look closely. There are a few slips." He was right. Just barely visible actions which allowed them to pass trough. "I wonder... Is this why they don't use their tactic Andes' Antlion Death Trap?", Philip said, eyes glued to the scene, observing the moment of the players. "Probably. Since they need seven players, leaving even one member of Little Giant uncovered could result in a tactical error, especially since they haven't used their full strength yet." And despite of them holding back, neither Diego nor Leone could get past the goalkeeper who – to everyone's surprise - used a special technique during the first match. It was every affirmation Teres needed to know that there was something wrong with this Football Frontier, more so than ever. "Teres?" Diaz's resolve didn't falter, his referring to the Captain just to affirm that they shared the same goal. And it helped Teres to focus, shouting orders to his teammates. "Tighten the defence." Despite of their try to interfere, Little Gigant's passes connected smoothly. "Maxi takes up the ball and dribbles forward. Oh, what's that? Three people are marking Teres while Maxi takes the ball to Goushu and then Drago." Their speed seemed to overwhelm them.

And then it happened.

"There it is, a niche in the iron wall." It was a stupid mistake but it happened. And hadn't Goushu used it, it would have been obvious that they didn't try their best. "Here we go", he said, passing trough the defence and standing in front of the goal after receiving the ball from Drago. "Fire Tornado!" "Million hands!" Ortega wasn't going down that easily. They climbed the wall but he was going to push them down again. Unfortunately, even this amount of hands weren't able to stop him and he was send back against the net. "Finally. During the second half-time, a long awaited goal was scored. There are still 25 minutes left. Will Argentina use that or does Cotarl take the lead?" "Don't mind. We'll get that point back", Diego assured their goalkeeper, trying to sound optimistic. At this point, The Empire realised what Teres had all along – Little Gigant wasn't playing with enjoyment. But where did this pressure, as it seemed to them, came from? "All right, the next goal is ours", Teres told his teammates, rather reassuring himself than them.

It was the first and the last goal during that match.

Argentina's wall was as hard to climb as Cotarl's which was consisting of only one man. The bitter truth: It was over before it began. The whistle was like a well hit punch to their stomach. Teres had been so preoccupied with their behaviour that he had forgot to lead his team with his full attention; yet he wasn't blamed. "We still have games ahead of us. Let us do our best then", Ortega had announced after the teams glanced at the score, not sure what to say otherwise. When Teres looked at Little Giant's player, he saw disappointment which was mostly interpreted as sadness over this low score by the crowd. But Teres knew better, yet he was confused as he recalled Goushu's words in his head. Why would he say something like that? It seemed like he wasn't approving of Rococo's thinking – whatever it was – but why was he and some other of the team doing it nevertheless, following his order? The only conclusion he came to was that it wasn't the whole team which seem to be influenced though intimidated enough to keep quiet. He needed to talk with Edgar. They had shared their thoughts about this before as they meet after the opening ceremony, the concern both had as they observed the other's. Rococo. Fideo. Mark. It was rather confusing. Trying to make sense of Goushu's words, he repeated them over and over again. The word's rang in his head when he shook his opponent's hand, congratulating them while an unspoken sorry hung between them. When he left the fields to the changing room, taking a shower afterwards. And when he was lying in his bed, preventing him to get his sleep.

"_Don't allow us to win."_

**_tbc_**

* * *

A/N: The scores in these story are all going to be based on real ones which happened during various championships or normal games between countries. Since Cotarl doesn't exist though, I decided to use the scores of Kamerun. This match is based on the World Cup 1990, in which – to everyone's surprise – Kamerun won during the opening ceremony against Argentina, the reigning world champion.


End file.
